


Leave the gun, take the Skittles

by writesometimes



Category: Psych
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Shawn has a thing for Lassiter's ties, adorable sharing of candy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:39:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12114804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writesometimes/pseuds/writesometimes
Summary: On rare occasions, Shawn could get a rise out of Lassiter. A crimson blush across the detective's face or even, very rarely, a smile. Which was why Shawn kept annoying him. He couldn't help it, somewhere along the way he started falling for the lanky head detective and getting on his nerves was Shawn's new favorite pastime.





	Leave the gun, take the Skittles

Chief Vick clicked a button on the small remote in her hand and a new picture appeared behind her. "This is the man responsible for the string of robberies that have plagued Santa Barbara for the last five months," she explained seriously. Everyone in the department had gathered for her briefing. They all wanted to bring this guy down, including the SBPD's resident psychic detective and his partner. Which was why Shawn and Gus were lingering on the outskirts of the group, hiding behind McNab. 

"John Blackstone has an impressive rap sheet and ties to a well-known crime family. We believe he's been orchestrating the robberies here on their behalf. I don't think I have to tell you how important it is that we catch this guy," Chief Vick continued, again clicking the small remote in her hand and summoning a new photo. A grainy photo of a man sitting at a cluttered desk popped up behind her. "We recently got an anonymous tip about a warehouse he's rented in the middle of town. We'll be raiding the place --"

Silently, Shawn tugged at the elbow of Gus' shirt and started backing away from the assembled officers. He had tuned the Chief out completely to confer with his partner and best friend. Gus rolled his eyes and followed Shawn to a bench near the main entrance of the station. "I think they're wrong about where they are going to find this guy or any of his sweet, sweet crime loot," Shawn whispered from behind a newspaper he'd found.

Gus shot him a disbelieving look and tugged the paper away from Shawn's face. "Did you hear the part about 'ties to a well-known crime family', Shawn?" he asked in a clipped tone.

"Gus, come on! This guy is connected to a major crime family and has been pulling jobs for them for five months, _successfully_ , and now the police just get some tip about a warehouse he's using to hide the profits of his filthy crimes? That doesn't seem a _little_  suspect to you?"

Gus just narrowed his eyes at Shawn.

"There may have also been documents on his desk in one of those surveillance pictures that looked like a rental agreement for a different warehouse. Now where do you think this guy would stash his most incriminating trinkets? In a warehouse the cops so easily discovered? _Or_  a second super-secret, super-awesome warehouse?"

Gus sighed. "Fine, Shawn, but take this one seriously. I don't want to end up like a character in Goodfellas, okay?"

"Gus, not _everyone_  dies in that movie!"

"You know what I mean, Shawn!"

Shawn huffed and jumped to his feet, hand already hovering by his temple, ready to deliver a message from the 'spirits', when suddenly Gus was tugging at the elbow of _his_  shirt. "Don't be over the top with Lassie on this one either. You've been pushing his buttons a lot lately and he's probably on edge with this case and the 'crime family' factor, and I don't feel like getting shot by him any time soon."

Shawn chuckled quietly. "Lassie isn't going to shoot us, Gus, for the last time!"

"How do you know, Shawn?" Gus countered heatedly.

Shawn stopped in his tracks. He knew he bugged the life out of the head detective, hell he reveled in it. If annoying Lassiter was an Olympic sport he'd have more gold medals than Phelps. But even with all of Lassiter's complaints and threats of bodily harm, he'd never _actually_  taken the drastic steps to have him banned from working cases with the SBPD. In fact, on rare occasions, Shawn could get a rise out of Lassiter. A crimson blush across the detective's face or even, very rarely, a smile.

Which was why Shawn kept annoying him. He couldn't help it, somewhere along the way he started falling for the lanky head detective and getting on his nerves was Shawn's new favorite pastime. It was childish, and Shawn knew it, but he didn't care. So what if he had begun to think the whole reason Lassiter had never actually seen him banned was because _he liked it just as much as Shawn_? Not that Shawn stayed up all night and wondered if Lassiter liked him back.

"Gus, I assure you Lassie will not shoot us because I think he secretly wants to be our best friend. Or maybe make out with me, I can't be sure," Shawn blurted out. Gus looked at him in disbelief. So maybe he totally did sit up at night and wonder if Lassiter liked him back, but Gus didn't need to know that right now.

Gus rolled his eyes as Shawn made his way back to the crowd to divine a message for the spirits.

"I'm funny how? Like a clown? I amuse you?" Shawn yelled from the back of the crowd in a thick Joe Pesci accent, hand hovering near his temple. Every head in the station immediately turned to stare at him. "Chief, if I may, the spirits seem to be saying this is all very entertaining to them."

Chief Vick took a deep breath, steadying herself for the antics that would surely ensue, but Lassiter cut in before before she could respond. "Absolutely not, Spencer! This is not a case for you and your time wasting antics. This guy is big time, this is a big case, and you're just going to get in the way and mess this up!" he bellowed.

Shawn placed his hand over his heart as if wounded by the detective's words. "Lassie, no need to get the sternbush in a twist! I'm simply trying to help!" Lassiter's face turned a wonderful shade of pink at the mention of his chest hair. Shawn filed the image away for later.

"Chief, we do _not_  need him on this one. We have a solid lead and this is too serious!" the head detective insisted.

Chief Vick was about to agree when Shawn made a low moaning sound. "Oh! Oh, the spirits!" Shawn cried, flinging himself at Lassiter and grabbing the man's forearms firmly. "The spirits are telling me you're looking in the wrong spot!" he said, pointing with one of Lassiter's arms at the picture of the warehouse slide still projected on the wall.

Lassiter scrunched his face in disgust and shook his arms free of Shawn's grasp. "Don't touch me," he spat.

"I can't tell the spirits how to communicate, Lassie."

"Don't. Touch. Me."

"You like it!" Shawn insisted quickly.

Lassiter turned even redder this time, mouth hanging open, waiting for his brain to catch up and verbalize how angry he was.

"Gentelmen!" Chief Vick called seriously. Shawn and Lassiter both turned quickly to face her. "If you're quite finished, we have a serious case to handle here. Spencer, as _invaluable_  as you've been in the past, I'm afraid you won't be needed on this one. Go home, we'll call you if that changes."

Shawn made his way through the crowd to the Chief, bumping Lassiter's shoulder with his own on his way. "Chief, I really think you're looking in the wrong place," he all but pleaded.

" _Go home_ , Mr. Spencer. We have a lot of work to do if we're going to raid this place tonight," the Chief reiterated.

"Tonight? Chief, wait!"

" _Goodbye_ , Mr. Spencer."

Shawn turned wildly, looking for Juliet in the crowd of officers. "Jules, back me up on this one!" he called out to the blonde.

She spread her arms out in front of her apologetically. "I'm sorry, Shawn, the lead is solid. We have to move tonight."

Shawn huffed indignantly and turned once more to find Gus. He was sitting back on the bench near the main entrance. "Lot of help you were, buddy," Shawn pouted at his best friend.

"I think where the mob is involved, we should steer clear and let the police handle things," Gus stated pragmatically.

Shawn rolled his eyes but didn't argue. He could see Gus' point, but he didn't want the police out wasting time. Or walking into a trap. "Let's just go back to the office," Shawn said in defeat. Gus nodded and fished the blueberry's keys from his pocket and headed for the parking lot.

Shawn took one last look around the buzzing department and spied Juliet helping Lassiter with his bullet-proof vest. "Stay safe," he mumbled to himself before following Gus to his blue hatchback.

* * *

 

Shawn and Gus sat in silence at their respective desks at the 'Psych' office. Shawn had been diligently searching for information for the case they absolutely had not been hired for. Gus was diligently searching through online dating profiles. He was about to click on the profile of a cute brunette veterinarian when Shawn slammed his fists down on his desk, startling Gus.

"I know the cops are looking at the wrong warehouse!" Shawn yelled assuredly.

Gus clicked quickly to send the brunette vet a wink before closing his laptop. "What are you talking about, Shawn? I thought you were playing Sim City or something, seeing as we haven't _actually_  been hired to work that case."

Shawn waved a dismissive hand at his best friend. "I saw other rental papers on Blackstone's desk, Gus! I know I did! And I think I'm close to tracking it down. We have to --"

"Nuh uh, Shawn," Gus interrupted, "Chief Vick made it very, _very_  clear we were to stay out of this. And I tend to agree. I don't want to end up 'sleeping with the fishes' okay?"

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Come on, Gus, we're too low profile for that! They'd just shoot us in a car but remember to take home their desserts!"

It was Gus' turn to roll his eyes. Against his better judgment, Gus stood and crossed the office to Shawn's desk. There were at least a dozen tabs open in his browser and numerous scraps of paper with messy notes littering his desk. Gus' eyebrows shot up. Shawn was actually taking this seriously. "Not that I want the cops out on a wild goose chase for a mob lackey, but why is this so important to you?"

Shawn spun around in his office chair but didn't look Gus in the eye. "Can you imagine how big the check will be if we help apprehend said mob lackey?"

Gus cocked his head to the side, momentarily imagining just _how much_  that would be worth to the SBPD. "It would probably deliver a handsome bonus, but since when do you care about that?"

"Maybe I'm saving up for something! Something awesome and expensive and I need the cash flow," Shawn countered defensively.

Gus narrowed his eyes at his best friend. "That's what your dad and my credit cards are used for."

Shawn released a loud sigh and jumped to his feet, heading for the mini-fridge. Gus trailed after him. "You've been like this for weeks! Insisting we work cases even when we aren't needed. You even tried to get us involved in that case where the jilted wife set fire to her cheating husband's clothes on their front lawn!"

"It was a crime!"

"Vandalism and disturbing the peace at the most! Clear cut case. But you still insisted we head to the scene after you heard it on the police scanner."

"The spirits --" Shawn began before Gus gave him a very clear 'do not' face. "I just want to help him," Shawn finally admitted in a resigned tone.

Gus furrowed his brow. "Him? Who's him?"

"Them! Help  _them_! The police. In general. As a whole. Them," Shawn rambled, drawing a large circle in the air with his index fingers.

"You have a crush on someone in the department!" Gus yelled. "Is it McNab? Is it 'cause he's so tall?"

"What?" Shawn shrieked.

"I thought you had decided not to pursue anyone in the department since Juliet turned you down and you didn't want to 'make things awkward at work' anymore," Gus went on, ignoring Shawn completely. "Who is this mysterious _him_?"

Shawn's mouth hung open inelegantly before he finally spoke. "I misspoke, Gus, I just meant --"

"I'm your best friend, Shawn," Gus interjected.

Shawn shut his eyes and released a deep sigh. "It's no big deal. It's just a dumb Lassie-crush. It'll go away and everything will go back to normal soon," he blurted out.

Gus nodded slowly, processing the information until he finally caught up. "Lassie? Shawn, what the hell! Are you nuts?"

Shawn raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side, as if pondering Gus' question. "The heart wants what the heart wants."

"Lassie? Carlton Lassiter? Head detective of the SBPD Carlton Lassiter? Probably has a weird gun-filled bunker in his backyard Carlton Lassiter?" Gus ranted.

"Oh, come on, he's not that bad! He's got a thick head of hair and _stupid_  blue eyes and the sternbush and he's not half bad at detective stuff!" Shawn insisted.

"Now I know you're losing it, you just said Lassie is a good detective. You suffer any blows to the head lately?" Gus asked wryly.

Shawn threw his arms up before turning around and flinging open the mini-fridge. "I don't know what to tell you, dude. You wanted to know. And I thought I could tell my _best friend_ ," he pouted as he dug through the fridge for a pineapple fruit cup.

Gus took a deep breath and clapped Shawn on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, man. It's just kind of out of left field, you know? But I'm not going to judge. So you have a crush on Lassie. So what?"

Shawn stood from where he was bent in front of the mini-fridge, pineapple fruit cup in hand and a large grin on his face. "So you'll help me help Lassie then?" he asked excitedly.

* * *

 

Shawn threw the passenger door of the blueberry open so violently Gus leered at him. Shawn winced apologetically at his friend before sprinting through the large parking lot they were in. Against his better judgment, Gus had agreed to take Shawn to the warehouse facility the cops were set to raid that night. If Shawn was right and it was some kind of decoy, there was a possibility it _could_  turn out to be dangerous and Gus didn't need that kind of guilt weighing on him.

Shawn ran frantically through the large warehouse complex before he found what he was looking for. Lassiter and O'Hara, guns at the ready, flanked by half the department. The head detective was barking orders and hadn't noticed Shawn's arrival. Shawn slunk behind a wall and took the scene in. Something was definitely off to him, everything was too quiet and calm and _unguarded_. "If this guy is committing robberies for the mob, and this is where he's been stashing his sweet, sweet crime loot, wouldn't you think it'd be more secluded? This place is right in the middle of a busy part of town. People coming and going all day." Shawn whispered to Gus as he finally caught up and ducked behind the wall with him.

"I don't know, Shawn, maybe he was trying to be inconspicuous by blending in with the general population."

"There's a medication for that."

"No, inconspicuous. Under the radar. The exact opposite of how you have lived your entire life."

Shawn rolled his eyes and re-focused his attention on the police raid unfolding in front of them. Briefly, he saw a dim flash of red light from under the door of the warehouse the cops were about to burst into. He took a breath and focused intently on the door. There was definitely a blinking red light somewhere in the warehouse. "Blinking red lights are generally bad, right?" he pondered aloud to Gus.

"Generally. Unless it's Christmas lights or something," Gus reasoned.

"Why would a man committing robberies for the mob steal Christmas lights, Gus?"

"I don't know, Shawn!"

"They didn't hire the Grinch to bring in money for an organized crime family!"

"You asked a question, Shawn, I was just --"

Before Gus could finish his thought Shawn had jumped out from behind the wall and placed his fingers to his temple. "You're in grave danger, Lassie! And O'Hara. And all you other people here too. Hi, by the way," he called loudly.

Lassiter turned toward Shawn, gun still raised. "You were told in no uncertain terms, to _go home_ , Spencer! What are you doing here? Sneaking up on a bunch of armed officers in the dead of night is idiotic, even for you!" the head detective roared as he approached Shawn.

In response to Lassiter still having his gun drawn, Shawn slowly raised his arms in surrender. "Lassie, I'm sensing this is a very well thought out trick. You could be in serious danger here," he all but pleaded.

"Shut it, Spencer, and let the professionals do their jobs."

"I'm seeing red. Blinking. Coming from inside that warehouse. It has a bad energy, Lassie!"

"Shut it!" Lassiter barked, angrier than Shawn had maybe ever heard him. The head detective turned back around to regroup with the team of officers. "Go the hell home, Spencer," he called over his shoulder. He gave a firm nod and an officer in a large protective suit moved toward the warehouse door.

 _It's now or never_ , Shawn thought before he ran after Lassiter and threw himself at his lanky legs. He wrapped his arms tightly around the detective's thighs and brought the man tumbling down. A split-second later the door to the warehouse was opened and a loud explosion shook the area.

Lassiter slowly rolled over onto his back, Shawn still sprawled across his legs. He stared at the psychic in complete shock. Shawn sat up quickly and scrambled closer to the detective, frantically patting the man's chest and face.

"What are you doing?" Lassiter asked dazedly.

"Checking you for wounds," Shawn answered absently, fingers now working through the detective's thick hair.

Lassiter looked up at Shawn slowly. "I'm - I'm fine. You saved my --"

"Don't mention it," Shawn cut the detective off, fingers still carding through Lassiter's hair.

The two sat, unmoving for a moment, staring at one another. Shawn's hands slipped from Lassiter's hair to either side of his neck. He took a deep breath before leaning forward into the detective's space. Lassiter swayed a bit but didn't move away from Shawn. They stared at one another in a daze.

"Carlton!" O'Hara yelled, startling the two men. They backed away from each other quickly. "We have an ambulance on the way for officer Thompson, but I think the protective suit did its job. I'm so glad you're okay!" O'Hara went on as she helped her partner to his feet. Lassiter nodded curtly in response, still in shock.

"I'm fine too," Shawn grumbled as he stood up slowly.

"Oh, Shawn! Thank god you got here when you did! Carlton was supposed to be right behind officer Thompson to lead the raid," O'Hara exclaimed, eyes wide as she laid her hands on Shawn's shoulders.

"All in a day's work, Jules," Shawn answered plainly, locking eyes with Lassiter who was standing behind his partner.

Suddenly, Gus started yelling for Shawn from where they'd been hiding before. "I'm totally calling your dad about this one!" he called smartly.

"To tell him how heroic I was?" Shawn called back, winking at Juliet.

"No, to tell him how reckless this was!"

"Well, I have to be going before Gus calls my dad and I get the lecture of a lifetime," Shawn said airily, stepping away from Juliet. He clapped Lassiter on the shoulder for a brief moment. "Glad you're okay, dude," he said sincerely before heading off for Gus.

Lassiter watched Shawn as he simply walked away. He turned back to what was now a burning warehouse. It was time to get back to work. "What's the ETA for the fire department?" he asked O'Hara sternly.

* * *

 

The next day Shawn showed up at the station bright and early. Only a few officers he didn't recognize were milling about the building and Shawn made a bee line for the un-sullied coffee maker. He snagged the empty mug off Lassiter's desk and another from the shelf above the machine and made two perfect cups of coffee. He plopped down in Lassiter's office chair once he was done, placed the detective's mug of fresh coffee on the corner of the desk, and kicked his feet up on the uncluttered work space. A case file caught his eye and he picked it up to occupy himself.

Not fifteen minutes later, Lassiter strolled confidently through the station doors. "Feet off my desk, Spencer!" he barked as he made his way to his desk.

"That's it? No snarky remark about what an idiot I am?" Shawn asked innocently as Lassiter brushed his filthy converse from his desk.

"It's too early for this," Lassiter grumbled.

"That's why I made you coffee," Shawn supplied sweetly, pointing to the fresh cup on the corner of the desk. Lassiter gabbed the warm mug and took an apprehensive sip. The sound that left his lips was borderline obscene and his face turned a soft shade of pink. "Good?" Shawn asked smugly.

Lassiter cleared his throat and pulled his office chair back from his desk. "I need to work, Spencer."

Shawn rose to his feet and stood in front of Lassiter, eyes focused on the unusually messy knot in his tie. "How's, uh, how's Officer Thompson?" he mumbled as he jammed his hands in his pockets.

Lassiter took a deep breath and looked down at his shoes. "He should be fine. Some deep bruising and minor burns but they're talking about releasing him at the end of the week. Should make a full recovery."

Shawn pursed his lips and nodded slowly. Lassiter opened his mouth again, but the words got stuck in his throat. Shawn reached up and straightened the detective's navy and powder blue striped tie. "I'm - I'm glad you're okay too," he said honestly just above a whisper.

Lassiter swallowed thickly and leaned in toward the psychic ever so slightly. "Thanks. For, you know, saving my life," he mumbled low and nervous.

"I told you," Shawn said, hand sliding down to the tip of Lassiter's tie, "all in a day's work. Don't mention it." He stared into the detective's eyes, wondering when they had drifted so close together.

"Spencer," Lassiter breathed into the shrinking distance between them.

Before Shawn could respond, he caught sight of the Chief rounding the corner into the station. He scrambled backward quickly, dropping Lassiter's tie with an apologetic smile. "Hold that thought," he nodded once and then made his way out of the department hastily. Lassiter scrunched his face up in a mixture of confusion and disappointment.

Shawn didn't even look up when Gus entered the 'Psych' office about an hour later. He was hunched over in his office chair, squinting at his computer screen, another stack of messy notes littering his desk.

"Bad posture will haunt you later in life, Shawn," Gus said smugly.

"I'll be sure to call the Ghost Busters when I'm a crippled old man," Shawn replied, eyes still focused on his computer screen.

Gus walked up behind him to see what had the other man so engrossed. "Are you _still_  trying to find this mob guy?" he asked in disbelief.

Shawn spun around in his office chair and met Gus' exasperated glare. "Yes," he offered simply.

"Even after last night?"

"You mean when I saved Lassie's life and then caressed his soft, thick, amazing hair? Yes."

"Shawn, that was insane! Even for you. We need to back off and let the police handle this one. For real."

Shawn raised a single finger between he and Gus. "But I found the warehouse Blackstone rented on the side. He used some lame alias for the paperwork but I found it! And check it out, a second owner is listed. I think it's the son of the crime boss he's been working for! This is like direct evidence of ties to organized crime, Gus!"

Gus squinted at Shawn's computer screen. "You should just tell Lassie and let it go."

"Yeah, I guess I could call him and tell him I used my dad's credentials to log into a bunch of city websites to look for leads. Should go over well," he said wryly, giving Gus two thumbs up.

Gus gave him a single finger salute in return. "Maybe don't illegally log into city databases next time."

Shawn scoffed and turned around to his computer. "I know where this place is and we have to go check it out so I can get something usable for the cops!" he insisted.

"We?" Gus shouted. " _I_  didn't want to be involved in any of this from the beginning!"

"But you have the blueberry, Gus! And if you back me up on this one they'll take it more seriously. If I just say it was a vision they'll probably blow me off again if someone else can't vouch for me!"

Gus sighed and shook his head. "No, Shawn. If you want to impress your dream boyfriend you're going to have to find another way. After last night we should have _nothing_  to do with this case."

Shawn closed his web browser and shut his computer down. "Fine. I'll figure something out. Let's get a bear claw from that new bakery up the street. I know you get hungry when you don't have your 10:30 a.m. snack."

"You know that's right," Gus agreed, following Shawn out the door.

After checking out at the bakery, the two made their way to the bench outside their office. Shawn sat silently enjoying the biggest cinnamon bear claw he'd ever seen. He was waiting for the perfect moment to bring up the two of them checking out the warehouse again. Gus was in pastry heaven at the moment and would probably be more agreeable to anything he suggested. He cleared his throat and set the remainder of his bear claw on a napkin in his lap.

Gus put up a hand before Shawn could even speak. "Nuh uh, Shawn. I am enjoying these baked goods and I will not have you ruin this for me. We are not taking my car to surveil a warehouse."

Shawn looked back out to the beach in front of them. He knew other people with cars capable of accommodating two people on a stakeout. A certain head detective and his precious four door Ford sedan for example. All he had to do was convince Lassiter he wasn't screwing around wasting his time and Shawn could just go check it out with him. How hard could it be?

He shoved the remainder of his bear claw in his mouth and rose from his spot on the bench. "I've gotta go talk to Lassie," he said around a mouthful of pastry.

Gus shrugged, pulling another bear claw from the bag next to him on the bench. "Good luck."

About twenty minutes later, Shawn parked his motorcycle in the parking lot at the police station. The place was humming with activity when he walked in. All officers had been called in just in case another tip came in and half the department had to scurry off to another raid.

Shawn spied Lassiter at the copier through a sea of uniformed bodies. He had his suit coat off, sleeves of his white button-up rolled up sloppily, tie loose and first few buttons of the shirt undone. His shoulder holster stood out in sharp contrast against the crisp white of his shirt, perfectly framing the detective's sturdy shoulders. Shawn stopped dead in his tracks and took in the sight.

An officer bumped into Shawn as she was trying to make her way through the crowded station, bringing him back to his senses. He smiled kindly at her, apologized, and made his way to Lassiter. "Hey, we need to talk," Shawn said seriously before grabbing the straps of the detective's shoulder holster and dragging him to the records room. Lassiter sputtered incoherently the whole way.

"I have news from the spirits," Shawn declared seriously as he kicked the door shut behind him.

Lassiter looked immensely confused. "This isn't about this morning when you visited the station?"

Shawn's eyebrows shot up. "Do you want it to be?" he asked cautiously.

"Not really," Lassiter said unconvincingly.

Shawn hummed thoughtfully and let go of Lassiter's shoulder holster. "I'm seeing a location. An address. A second warehouse this Blackstone rented under an alias. It's very clear, this is such a strong vision! We should look into it. A stakeout perhaps?"

"You weren't hired for this case, Spencer."

"I can't decide what information the spirits send my way, Lassie. It's a gift. And a curse," Shawn said dramatically.

Lassiter rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this. Or some wild goose chase stakeout with you. I have a real job, and a lot of important things to do."

Shawn snatched the tip of Lassiter's tie up in his hand as he had that morning, fidgeting with it. Lassiter closed his eyes. "This was a very strong vision. What could it hurt?" Shawn whispered, inching closer to the detective.

Slowly, Lassiter opened his eyes and met Shawn's half-lidded gaze. He sighed deeply. "Fine. Tonight. Meet me back here at the station at six," he relented.

Shawn leaned in so close to Lassiter he could smell the small amount of pomade he used to tame his hair. "It's a date then," he said seductively before opening the door and exiting the records room.

"No it's not!" Lassiter called after him in a panic. "Spencer! It most certainly is _not_!"

Shawn smirked and thought about what to bring on their 'not-a-date' stakeout.

* * *

 

At 6:44 p.m. Shawn and Lassiter found themselves parked across the street from Blackstone's second warehouse in Lassiter's sedan. The place was on the outskirts of town, much more secluded than the first warehouse. It had been roughly twenty minutes since they arrived and Shawn had been unusually silent. The head detective chose to embrace the quiet and focus on the building across the street through his binoculars.

A rustling sound next to him broke his concentration.

"Skittle?" Shawn asked enthusiastically, an open backpack sitting in his lap.

Lassiter lowered the binoculars from his eyes and stared at Shawn in disbelief. "This is serious, Spencer. I don't want any of your candy. Or anything else you have in that ridiculous backpack," he said gesturing the to the Jansport filled with snacks.

"You _have_  to have snacks for a stakeout, Lassie! And energy drinks! It's a well-known fact," Shawn stated seriously.

Lassiter shook his head and brought the binoculars back up to his eyes. "I'm more focused on catching this guy and getting out of here."

Shawn shrugged and tore into his packet of candy. Another twenty minutes of silence ensued while he munched on his Skittles and Lassiter stared daggers through his binoculars at the warehouse across the street. Finally the silence became unbearable for the detective and he cleared his throat. "There's nothing here, Spencer, this is a waste of time."

Shawn tossed his last handful of Skittles in his mouth. "The sun has barely set, Lassie, give it some time. Criminals, much like vampires, are adverse to sunlight," he explained around a mouthful of the rainbow candies.

Lassiter yanked the binoculars from his eyes again and rested them in his lap. He sighed deeply and turned in his seat to face Shawn. "Are you capable of taking anything seriously?" he asked irritatedly.

Shawn rummaged around in his backpack and pulled out a bag of pretzels. "Lassie, we're sitting in a car in the dark just waiting for some guy to show up. We have to pass the time. Do you know how to relax and have a little fun once in a while?"

"This isn't a joke, Spencer! This guy is connected to the mob!"

Shawn popped a few pretzels in his mouth and pointed out the windshield. "If anyone shows up we'll see them! Now relax and have a pretzel."

Lassiter sat, staring at Shawn for a moment in disbelief. He didn't understand how the man could be so cavalier about everything in life, and was about to ask him just that when his stomach rumbled loudly. His cheeks turned a light pink. "I skipped dinner," he said abashedly.

Shawn shook the bag of pretzels in his hand. "Get in there, Lassie," he said holding the bag out to the detective.

Lassiter rolled his eyes and dug into the proffered bag. He chewed silently on a handful of pretzels while Shawn smiled brightly at him from the passenger seat. "Why'd you bring an entire backpack of snacks anyway?" Lassiter asked as he focused his attention back out the windshield.

"You've clearly never been on a stakeout with Gus," Shawn laughed. Lassiter chuckled quietly before he caught himself and straightened his tie nervously. Shawn's smile widened. "Was that a laugh, Detective?" he asked playfully.

Lassiter took a deep breath. "Give me some more pretzels," he barked, ignoring Shawn all together.

Shawn propped the bag up on the center console between he and Lassiter. "So when was the last time you were on a stakeout?" he asked.

Lassiter grabbed another handful of pretzels and took a moment to think. "Year and a half, two years ago maybe? You?"

"Three months ago," Shawn answered succinctly. "Gus and I staked out my dad. He'd started taking off on Thursdays and being very evasive about it. Turns out he was just going to a 'singles book club' trying to impress some blonde. The whole thing was really underwhelming." Lassiter laughed in earnest. Shawn smirked and leaned over closer to the detective under the guise of grabbing more pretzels. "If you want to hear more embarrassing stories about my dad, I would be happy to indulge you all night," he said playfully.

"Hopefully Blackstone will show soon and we won't have to be here all night. You got anything to drink in that backpack?"

Shawn opened the backpack up again and started rummaging through it again. "Soda, Red Bull, some bottled water," he rattled off quickly.

Lassiter asked for a water and Shawn dug one out from the bottom of his backpack. "You can have it on one condition. You can't take yourself too seriously for the rest of the night."

Lassiter squinted at Shawn. His smile was crooked and his eyes had a mischievous glint to them and, god help him, Lassiter found it charming. "Fine," he said snatching the water bottle from Shawn. He unscrewed the cap and took a swig of water.

Shawn dug into the backpack again and pulled out a bag of chocolates. "Want a kiss?" he asked nonchalantly.

Lassiter choked on his water. "What?" he spat in a panic.

"A Hershey's kiss? Chocolate? I have a bag," Shawn explained innocently.

Lassiter put the water bottle in the cup holder and turned fully in his seat to face Shawn. "What are you doing?" he asked sternly.

"Eating chocolate. Watching you not eat chocolate. Come on! Have one!" Shawn tossed a chocolate into Lassiter's lap. Lassiter picked it up cautiously, like it would explode at any moment. Shawn shot the detective a toothy grin, teeth covered in melted chocolate.

Lassiter smirked back and unwrapped his chocolate. "See! A smile! I knew you could loosen up!" Shawn cried, swatting the detective playfully on his chest. Lassiter popped the chocolate in his mouth and started chewing. "Oh, Lassie, you have to let 'em melt in your mouth! Take your time, savor it."

Lassiter felt his cheeks turning pink again and cleared his throat. He fidgeted with his foil chocolate wrapper nervously. "What, uh, what's going on with you, Spencer?"

Shawn dropped his hand from where it still rested against Lassiter's chest. "Nothing, Lassie. I'm just trying to pass the time until this Blackstone guy shows up," he said, looking out the windshield.

"I meant in general. Lately you've been --"

"Helpful?" Shawn interjected.

"Affectionate," Lassiter offered instead.

Shawn laughed nervously. "No! Hey, I have some Cheetos, you want some?" he asked in a rush changing the subject. He plunged a hand into his backpack, digging for the Cheetos wildly.

Lassiter placed his hand atop Shawn's gently, stopping his digging. "You haven't made fun of me all night. Haven't told me what an inadequate detective I am. Hell, you saved my life."

Shawn looked up at Lassiter almost like a deer in headlights. "Jesus, Lassie, as much as I tease you I'd never actually want something bad to happen to you."

"You haven't made fun of my ears for months," Lassiter pressed on, eyebrows raised.

"Your hair grew back out!" Shawn countered defensively.

Lassiter nodded and pursed his lips, as if he'd figured something disappointing out. Shawn's brain went into hyperdrive. Lassiter had been holding out hope Shawn was flirting with him! Shawn started shaking his head rapidly. "If you weren't so opposed to being a human being instead of the Robo Cop, your face wouldn't look like that right now and you'd understand --"

"Spencer," the detective cut in, "Let's just forget everything and start over and go back to normal for the rest of the night."

"No! No, we were having fun! Kinda. For a stakeout. Stakeout fun. I was making you laugh! This is good, Lassie. We're _good_." Lassiter glared out the windshield and sighed. Shawn's heart was pounding in his chest. He was screwing everything up. "I have a crush on you!" Shawn blurted our nervously.

"Son of a bitch!" Lassiter shouted.

Shawn winced. "We can talk about it. Or not! Whatever you want!"

"Not you, Spencer! Blackstone just showed up!"

Sure enough a man in blue jeans and a tan leather jacket was puttering around in front of the warehouse trying to fish his keys out of his pocket while holding an armful of boxes. Lassiter pulled his gun and began to open his door.

Shawn reached out and grabbed his tie. "Be careful," he said seriously before tugging the detective toward him and planting a chaste kiss on his brow.

Lassiter backed away from the car quickly, putting what had just happened to the back of his mind. "Freeze! SBPD!" he called to Blackstone.

* * *

 

Shawn sat, unmoving, in the passenger seat of Lassiter's Ford. The head detective stood out near the hood of the car, gun trained on Blackstone. "SBPD, show me your hands!" Lassiter yelled across the street as he inched closer.

Blackstone turned to face Lassiter. "I'm gonna set these boxes down," he called back calmly.

"Slowly!" Lassiter instructed.

Blackstone nodded. "Who's in the car? Doesn't look like another cop. You bring a date on a stake out?" he yelled as he bent over to set the boxes down.

Lassiter glanced back at Shawn, still sitting stiffly in the passenger seat. Blackstone reached into his jacket pocket while Lassiter was preoccupied checking on Shawn and gripped his handgun tight. "Stand up slowly, Blackstone!" Lassiter yelled.

Blackstone grinned wryly at Lassiter and stood quickly, pulling his weapon and firing a shot. The bullet went through the windshield of Lassiter's car near the driver's seat and lodged in the back seat. "Shawn, get down!" Lassiter yelled as he returned fire. Shawn quickly scrambled down in his seat, hiding as best he could below the dashboard.

Lassiter looked back quickly to make sure Shawn had done as he said just as Blackstone fired off another shot. It grazed Lassiter's left arm and he groaned loudly before getting off two more shots of his own.

The second shot landed in Blackstone's shin and he went down. Lassiter took off across the street to his perp. "Freeze!" he yelled as he stood over the man who was now writhing on the ground. He kept his gun aimed at Blackstone as he kicked the man's gun away from his grasp. "Get on the radio and call this in, Shawn!" he called back to his car.

Shawn's head popped up from beneath the dashboard and searched the area for the detective. He panicked momentarily when he finally caught sight of him and the blood pouring down Lassiter's left arm. "Call it in, Shawn!" Lassiter yelled again.

Shawn shook his head rapidly to clear his thoughts and fumbled for the car's police radio. Once he had finally called in for backup and an ambulance he threw the door open and stumbled out of the car. "Lassie, Jesus, are you okay?" he asked as he sprinted across the street.

Lassiter briefly took his eyes off Blackstone to look at Shawn. "I'm fine. Did you call it in?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Your arm," Shawn said pointing to where Lassiter was still losing a lot of blood.

"He grazed me, I'm fine," Lassiter insisted.

Shawn didn't say a word as he begun undoing Lassiter's tie.

"What are you doing?" the detective questioned, trying to keep his focus on his perp.

Shawn tied the other man's tie securely above where the bullet had grazed his arm. "You're bleeding pretty bad," he explained dazedly.

"I really liked that tie," Lassiter pouted.

Sirens blared down the street before Shawn could respond. In an instant half the department was descending upon the scene out in front of the warehouse. Shawn backed away from Lassiter slowly and disappeared into the growing crowd of officers.

A familiar voice cut above the din of the scene. "Carlton! Thank god! The Chief isn't too pleased with you for taking a civilian on an unauthorized stakeout with no back up so, you know, be prepared," Juliet said in a rush as she clapped her partner on his uninjured arm.

Lassiter nodded grimly and scanned the crowd for Shawn, but Chief Vick and three paramedics suddenly blocked his view. The paramedics herded him off to the ambulance as Vick followed behind closely, already grilling her head detective. They loaded him into an ambulance quickly and headed off for the hospital.

An hour later Shawn strolled through the doors at Santa Barbara General, a shopping bag tucked under his arm. He figured that would have given Lassiter enough time to give his statement and for the Chief to chew him out about what had happened. After a few questions at the front desk, he took off for room 118.

He knocked gently on the door and poked his head inside the small room. The lights were low and it was silent within. "Lassie? You decent?" Shawn called in a whisper.

Lassiter looked up from the papers he was going over. The man was clad in white hospital gown, left arm in a sling, sitting up on top of the blankets on a small hospital bed. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked paler than usual. "Come in, Spencer," he said drowsily.

"We're back to 'Spencer' now?" Shawn asked playfully. Lassiter sighed and dropped the papers he was reading in his lap. "Before you start demanding I leave," Shawn said in a rush, "I come bearing gifts!" He pulled the shopping bag from under his arm and gently set it on the papers in Lassiter's lap. "Should make you happier than going over the Blackstone case notes," Shawn suggested as he glanced over the papers.

Lassiter looked inside the bag to find a small box wrapped in an intricate cornflower blue ribbon and bow. "What's this?" he asked slightly surprised.

"Open it," Shawn encouraged.

Lassiter pulled the box from the plastic bag and inspected the bow closely before untying it and opening the box. A navy and powder blue striped tie sat, rolled up carefully in the small box. "My tie!" he said through a lopsided grin.

"Seemed a shame that you'd have to lose that one," Shawn explained, looking down at his shoes.

"You went to the mall, found my exact tie, and had it boxed and gift wrapped?" Lassiter asked as he picked up the ribbon.

Shawn shrugged. "You said you really liked that one."

Lassiter looked up at Shawn in disbelief. "Gonna be kind of hard to get it on now though," he said, gesturing slightly with the arm he had stuck in a sling.

Shawn sat down on the small hospital bed next to Lassiter and unfurled the tie from its box. "Having one less arm to work with _could_  make tying a tie difficult," he said as he draped the tie around Lassiter's neck and began tying it. Lassiter watched Shawn carefully as he struggled to to tie anything resembling a proper necktie knot. After a few minutes Shawn released it and sighed, a messy and loose tie knot hanging low on Lassiter's chest.

"So, you might want to get someone else to help you with this," Shawn said, playing with the tip of the tie.

"I don't know," Lassiter whispered as he leaned in closer to Shawn, "it could benefit both of us. I wouldn't have to be seen in public without a tie. You could learn to tie one."

Shawn chuckled and shook his head. "Even in the hospital you're still trying to roast me."

"What can I say, it's fun," Lassiter grinned.

Shawn tugged the tie and pulled the detective closer, placing a soft kiss to his lips. "I knew you liked me back," he whispered against Lassiter's lips.

Lassiter leaned back slightly and searched Shawn's face intently. "What are we doing, Shawn?"

"Expressing our shared attraction through physical affection, Lassie. See, when two people like each other in a special way --"

"No," Lassiter interrupted, "are you being serious or is this just you having some fun before you decide I'm old news?"

Shawn tugged on Lassiter's loose tie again. "I don't use Gus' credit card to have ties boxed and gift wrapped for just anyone," he said seriously.

It was Lassiter who leaned in and initiated the soft kiss then. Shawn moaned as Lassiter nipped at his bottom lip. "So, uh, what are you doing after this?" Shawn asked as they separated.

Lassiter chuckled and leaned back against his pillows. "They're releasing me in about half an hour and I'm absolutely starving."

Shawn grinned so hard his face hurt. "Dinner for two at a greasy twenty-four hour diner it is then," he said, taking Lassiter's hand in his.

They made an odd pair at the brightly lit diner. Lassiter with his rumpled suit, loose tie, arm in a sling and Shawn dressed too casually and gesticulating wildly, but they had the best hamburgers and milkshakes of their lives. Shawn was plastered to Lassiter's side helping him dip his fries in his Strawberry milkshake and eat them. Lassiter was sure half the diner patrons were staring but he couldn't have cared less.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I started re-watching Psych recently while I've been sidelined with an illness and that's how this came to be. This really helped me take my mind off being sick and was so much fun for me to write, even if it took forever! I hope it's a fun read too!


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